


Things You Do Don't Seem Real

by cathybites



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, New York Rangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for <a href="http://panda-check.livejournal.com/193686.html?thread=1126806#t1126806">this prompt</a> from the kink meme, which just asked for rimming. not surprisingly, I had to take a shot at it.</p><p>title from "She Drives Me Crazy" by the Fine Young Cannibals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Do Don't Seem Real

Artem is naked, stretched out across Enver's bed, one of the pillows folded under his hips, propping him up. It's not unfamiliar, this position, but the exact situation...that's different. More than a little discomfiting, and he fidgets. He's still not sure how he let himself get talked into this.

"Relax," Enver says, and Artem tries to. He takes a deep breath, unclenches his hands from the sheets. He shifts a little, rolling his shoulders, and is rewarded with a slow stroke down his side. "This is going to be good, I promise."

The mattress moves, dipping down as Enver settles between his legs. Artem can feel his body heat, warming his inner thighs, and he gives a small thrust into the pillow, body aching to be touched.

He gets his wish a moment later, Enver's hands warm on his back, fingers digging in. Artem melts into the touch, moaning as Enver moves lower, fingers dancing along his spine. He rests them on the small of Artem's back. "You can tell me no," he says. "It's okay. We can do something else."

Artem considers it. He's still freaked out by the very _idea_ of this, of Enver putting his mouth _there_. But he remembers how excited Enver had been describing it, the way his skin had flushed and words had come out in a rushed whisper. He wants Enver to feel that again. Wants to _make_ him feel like that again.

He glances over his shoulder, biting down on his lip, and nods.

Enver doesn't waste anymore time on reassurances. His hands move to Artem's thighs, pushing them farther apart before moving up to round over his ass. Light strokes across his skin, and Artem is so focused on them that he doesn't realize Enver's moved again. Not until he feels hot breath ghosting over the curve of one cheek, followed by the quick swipe of Enver's tongue.

Artem can't help it; he jumps at the feeling, hands twisting in the sheets again. Enver shushes him, hands gentle, patting him before spreading him open.

And oh god, Artem swears he can feel the weight of Enver's gaze on him. A hot flush sweeps over him and he buries his face in the mattress. It's humiliating to be so exposed, and he almost calls it off when Enver's thumb brushes over his hole.

Artem's breath hitches. The thumb is just slick enough for Artem to feel it, gliding easily as it circles the rim. His thighs shake with the effort to keep still, too unsure if he wants to scoot away or push back.

It pushes at him gently, teasingly, and Artem bites down on a whimper, hips tilting up.

The thumb moves, and before Artem can protest, it's replaced. Slick and strong and wet, and Artem's fists clench when he realizes that, yes, that's Enver's tongue. His _tongue_ , licking at him softly, almost cautiously.

He shudders, thinks about pulling away, but Enver must sense his trepidation. His hands grip Artem tighter, spread him open wider, and Enver licks again, stronger than before, again and again.

It feels...not amazing, but not bad, either. Pleasant enough, but nothing to go crazy over. At least, that's what Artem thinks until the pointed tip of Enver's tongue traces around his hole once before pushing in. Sudddenly, the flickers of heat that had been dancing underneath his skin ignite, making him hot all over. He jerks against Enver's grip, gasping.

Enver doesn't let go, just delves in deeper. It's different from anything Artem has felt before. Softer than fingers, than a dick, and it _moves_ , wriggling inside him. Artem buries his head in his arms and moans, almost sobbing when Enver adds a finger.

Make that two fingers, stretching him open for Enver's tongue. And Artem doesn't think about it, just spreads his legs wider and pushes back, begging for more.

Enver licks and sucks at him, wet and sloppy, fingers pushing inside easily, twisting and scissoring. Artem can feel his cock leaking onto the pillow, pre-come smearing against his stomach, and he reaches down. It's almost a shock to touch himself; so much of his focus had been on what Enver was doing, he hadn't realized how hard he'd gotten.

He strokes once and Enver's tongue breaches him again, flicking between his fingers. Artem shivers, wants nothing more than to drown in the sensation. It's shameful how much he wants this now, Enver's mouth on him, licking him from the inside out, but he doesn't care, not at the moment. He jerks himself off in time to the thrusts of Enver's tongue and fingers moving in tandem.

When Enver works three fingers in, curving them just _so_ , tongue licking around his knuckles, Artem loses it, crying out as he spills over his hand.

He slumps on the bed, breathless and boneless, not quite believing he'd actually gone through with it. He sucks air in, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Finally, Artem turns over. It takes another beat for him to meet Enver's eyes, and he has to swallow down a moan when he does, taking in Enver's bright eyes and his red, spit-slick lips.

Enver just smiles, looking smug enough that Artem is tempted to push him off the bed. He moves closer, lying next to Artem, one arm draping over his waist. He opens his mouth, taking a breath, and Artem shushes him.

"I don't want to hear 'I told you so.' Say it and I'm beating you to death with that wet pillow."

Enver blinks, putting on his most guileless expression, the one Artem never fully trusts. "Never. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Artem huffs, eyeing him. "Yes, okay? I'm great, and you were right. Satisfied?"

Enver grins, curling into Artem. He's hard, but demanding anything just yet. Artem figures once he's caught his breath, he'll...well, no, he won't return the favor, but he can at least take care of Enver, suck him off maybe.

And maybe if he draws it out long enough, gets both of them worked up enough, Enver will do _that_ to him again.


End file.
